


Until Prince Charming Comes

by sharkbatez



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, It's mostly just Lara and Sam, Sam POV because why not, other characters appear super briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22360015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkbatez/pseuds/sharkbatez
Summary: Just like a Cinderella story, Sam and Lara dance until midnight.
Relationships: Lara Croft/Samantha Nishimura
Comments: 14
Kudos: 77





	Until Prince Charming Comes

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! And happy birthday to Lara Croft herself. I guess happy pseudo-birthday to my dog that I named after her. Lol.

She was having fun. 

For the first time since the first week of the expedition, Samantha Nishimura was having the time of her life, doing absolutely fun things like dancing to music she could understand, eating food that wasn’t made of fish and eating a real cake. 

She danced with Jonah most of the night, as a thank you for the food and for helping her organize this party. Roth had danced along with them. Alex did too, and he even started break-dancing. Grim was swaying out of sync, stopping every few seconds to take a sip of his whiskey. Even Reyes stepped up to the dance floor, bopping her head and reluctantly moving along to the music. 

Tensions had been escalating the longer they were sailing. Sam had thought that there really were some people who just weren’t meant to be living in close quarters with each other. Roth and Reyes bickered a lot, sometimes Grim, Jonah and Roth argued too, but it had always been about the ship’s maintenance. 

Of course, after the second week, everybody did their best to avoid Dr. Whitman and his violent ramblings about the show. Not to mention how he and Roth and Lara had been hidden away in the bridge, arguing most likely. The crew’s dislike of him wasn’t a big secret, but Sam had invited him to the party nonetheless. Out of propriety. 

“I have more important things to do than prance around like an idiot, Sam.” he hissed before he closed his door on her. 

His absence was not a loss. Sam would bet that James Whitman’s presence would have ruined the whole point of _lifting everyone’s spirits._ It was just one night anyway. Tomorrow, they could all go back to nearly tearing each other’s throats out from seasickness and cabin fever. 

They drank a healthy ration of their booze, _pranced around like idiots,_ and for just one night, they all felt like everything was going fine. They weren’t lost at sea, they weren’t in any danger of running out of food and water, they weren’t wasting a month of their lives just sailing in circles for nothing. Everyone was having a blast. 

All except for Lara. 

She stood with her back against the wall, a little notebook opened right in front of her. She occasionally glanced at the dance floor, to offer Sam, Jonah or Roth or Alex or Steph a smile and a shake of her head when they had asked her to join in. Whenever Sam had the urge to march right up to her and pull her towards them, Lara would slink away to the food table and stuff her face with the cake or the shrimp rolls. 

But the party didn’t last forever. Roth had asked everyone to head back to their cabins around ten o’clock. “You can stay as long as you like, but it’ll be a full day tomorrow. Hungover or not, I expect everyone to do their jobs.” 

Nobody stayed. It wasn’t as if anyone could call in sick without the captain coming to their cabins in ten minutes. Tonight, had been a fun distraction, a reminder of the good times that they could return to when the voyage was done. Come what may, they were still going home. 

When they finally returned to their cabin, Sam had yanked the notebook out of Lara’s hand. “A bit sneaky of you to hide at the buffet table all night.” 

“What?” Lara tried to steal the notebook back from Sam, but she moved out of the way so suddenly that Lara almost toppled onto Sam’s bed, “The cake was good and I haven’t had shrimp in a while.” 

“We literally had shrimp two days ago.” 

They went at it for a few more times, Sam just barely dodging Lara’s moves and successfully pushing her away when she got a little too close. Eventually, Lara sank onto Sam’s bed, pouting as Sam raised her notebook high. 

“Tonight was supposed to be having fun, Lara, to let loose.” Sam whispered, shaking the notebook in front of Lara before handing it to her, “We’re working almost twenty-four-seven. What’s a few hours of dancing with friends?” 

After a few seconds, Lara mumbled something Sam could barely hear through the sound of the waves outside. 

“Lara, speak up.” Sam whined. 

“I don’t know how to dance.” Lara said loudly, and then she whispered: “Not like everyone else.” 

“Well, sure you can be a little stiff.” Sam ignored the brief glare that Lara shot her, “But it’s dancing, Lara. It’s just moving to the beat. I’ve seen you dance before. We went out clubbing after graduation!” 

“If I recall correctly, you had a little too much to drink and I spent the entire night just making sure you were okay. I didn’t do any dancing that night.” 

Sam balked at the statement, her mind racing, trying to recall the events of their graduation night. She went even further, to the parties and the get-togethers and she remembered: each and every single time, Lara Croft stood against the wall, either a drink or a book in hand and just smiling whenever Sam would take notice of her. 

“Do you _ever_ dance?” she hadn’t meant to ask it out loud. It was a rhetorical question, of course. Because they had known each other _for years_ but Sam had never seen Lara Croft dance. Not once. 

It had been the wrong thing to say, Sam thought. Lara looked utterly humiliated by the question, her cheeks dusted red. She sat straight as a board and avoided eye contact. Sam was just about to take it back when Lara suddenly whispered: “It’s not— I only know— Oh, how do I say this?” 

Sam waited like she always did. Lara only ever stuttered when she was about to say something she thought would potentially ruin their friendship— and Lara thought a lot of things about her would make Sam run for the hills. 

In truth, Lara _was_ strange. She liked being alone. She would lose track of time in dusty libraries. She would mutter to herself sometimes. She was more excited about the discovery of an Egyptian sarcophagus than dinner or any meal at all... Except Jaffa cakes. Lara could probably live off of those and her godawful English tea. 

She avoided eye contact a lot, preferring to whisper to her feet. Sometimes, she would stare into the distance. Daydreaming, perhaps? When she wasn’t buried beneath a pile of books, she was rushing off from one job to another. She had a knee-jerk reaction to smile when spoken to, but her smile seemed more relaxed, more comfortable whenever she would see Sam. 

Sam thought that Lara might have been bullied as a child. Lara never talked much about her life before they met, just that she lived in Surrey and that her parents had passed away when she was young. Nothing more. Sam never pried; and each time Lara smiled at her, she returned it tenfold. 

“I’ve never danced like that since I was a child.” Lara began, she chuckled to the wind, “There wasn’t really any reason to. I just... I’ve only ever danced the waltz at one of my uncle’s balls.” 

“Your what?” Sam hadn’t meant to laugh so suddenly, but Lara could be so dense sometimes, “Uncle’s balls? You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you, like, a princess or something?” 

Lara shook her head and mumbled, “No, I’m just a girl, in over her head about all this.” 

Sam stopped laughing. Lara was staring into space again, a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. Lara looked twenty years older than she was in that moment and Sam suddenly thought of the Romanovs, of that old animated movie called Anastasia, where a princess had grown up in an orphanage, just singing as she traveled to Paris to find her family. 

Lara Croft? A princess? It wasn’t impossible, but Sam doubted any member of the royal family had a sliver of privacy, especially someone like Lara. She was always so polished, so eloquent, so polite and captivating — just like a princess. She wasn’t just _some_ girl. 

Sam rose from her bed, turned on her heel and bowed low as she extended her hand out to Lara. 

“What are you doing, Sam?” Lara giggled. 

“Your highness!” Sam said in a deep, _fake_ British accent that elicited a snort from Lara, “Would you like to dance the waltz with me?” 

Lara had just kept laughing, her voice echoing in the small confines of their shared cabin. Sam had looked up a little, flashed her an impatient look and Lara straightened herself. There was a small smile on her lips, tired, but content. “Oh, Sam.” 

Finally, Lara took her hand and pushed herself up with a little help from her friend. 

“I’m serious!” Sam exclaimed, “If the waltz is the only thing you know how to do — and I still think that’s impossible — then we are going to waltz. You also surrender all rights to complain if I step on your toes.” 

Lara kept smiling; her hand was gentle as she guided Sam’s to her shoulder. She held her palm up and waited as Sam placed her other hand in Lara’s. When Sam felt Lara’s other hand on her hip, she held her breath and stared up at the smiling woman in front of her. 

And then it hit her: Lara Croft looked utterly majestic. 

Lara was patient as she taught the distracted Sam the basics of the waltz, chuckling here and there whenever their toes would accidentally brush against each other. Her voice was firm, but soft and her smile almost never went away. 

Maybe there was a reason Lara wasn’t always like this — confident, thoughtful, patient, magnificent, really — with just about anyone. The world probably wouldn’t be able to handle the full extent of Lara’s beauty and grace. Sam couldn’t. Not this close. She stared at their feet, at Lara’s untied laces and at her boots. 

“Sam?” Lara whispered and Sam felt her heart stop beating then and there. She inched closer, still shuffling about, the tip of her boot still grazing Lara’s. “You have to stop looking at your feet.” 

“Oh.” Sam said. She tried to laugh, thinking that Lara would believe that her refusing to even look at her was out of embarrassment for her clumsiness and not for something else, something else she hadn’t really thought about until now. 

But the way the feeling just rolled around in her stomach and warmed her heart was familiar. Had it always been there? 

“Don’t think about it too much.” 

Sam looked up with an eyebrow raised, saw that same little smile on Lara’s face as she pulled Sam flush to her chest. This was the closest they had ever been since they first met. Sam had wrapped herself around Lara on occasion, but never for too long, never quite like this, but there had always been a little thrill when it happened, now that she thought about it. 

“Keep doing what you’re doing.” Lara moved her face closer, pressing her cheek against Sam’s as she whispered, “I’ll just match your pace.” 

It took a couple more toe-crushing accidents before Sam had calmed herself enough to find a rhythm Lara could match. They joked about the lack of music, Sam wondering if they could only waltz to classical songs. Lara laughed and told her they could dance to a pop song. 

“You remember that movie you made me watch?” Lara giggled against her hair, “There was this couple and they were dancing to Time After Time.” 

“They weren’t dancing.” Sam said plainly, hoping Lara couldn’t feel how hot her face was. 

Lara pulled away at that moment and, half a second too late, Sam did the same, if only to save a little face. They still had their hands in their _proper_ places; clasped together. Lara’s on Sam’s hip and Sam’s on Lara’s neck now. 

“Oh right, they were just standing in an ice rink. I remember.” she smiled that glorious smile. 

Silence hung between them as they simply stared at each other. Sam had to remind herself that they had done this thing before: staring. But it had never occurred after an epiphany that shifted _everything_ into a new light. She was just about to put an end to their pathetic excuse of a waltz, to suggest that they turn in for the night, but Lara leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Sam’s shoulders and sighed. 

“Thank you for this.” she said. They were still swaying a little. Was it because of their dance or was it because of the boat floating on the sea? Sam wasn’t sure. “It’s nice to feel like I have no responsibilities again. Even just for a little while.” 

Sam reluctantly wrapped her arms around Lara’s waist and whispered right back, “We can stay a little longer. Maybe put off this whole responsibility thing until morning, you know, when Roth comes knocking.” 

Lara chuckled into her hair and it was such a beautiful sound, “I don’t think I’d like to say up until sunrise, Sam, and don’t you have an episode to shoot tomorrow?” 

Sam groaned and felt the butterflies twisting about in her stomach, “Let’s just be Cinderella then. Come midnight, we’ll take our shoes off, sleep by imaginary fireplaces that stain our skins with soot and then get back to a lifetime of chores in the morning.” 

“Until Prince Charming comes?” Lara said breathlessly. Sam felt like a brick slammed right into her chest. 

Still, she responded in kind, “Until Prince Charming comes.” 

True to their word, they broke apart by midnight. They pulled their shoes off of their feet, giggled and poked each other as they changed into their pajamas. Sam pointedly stared at the wall as Lara undressed, trying not to remember the times that they had practically showered together. 

They settled on to their respective beds, Lara occupying the top bunk while Sam slipped into the bottom bunk. She stared at the sheet of metal that separated Lara’s bunk from hers. That had been the first time Lara had even _mentioned_ about a romantic interest and, just when Sam was placing a name to these blindsiding feelings, _she_ wanted a Prince Charming. 

_As all princesses do perhaps._

Sam tried to lull herself to sleep, not to think too much about it, as Lara had suggested earlier, tried not to wonder if Alex’s advances were finally taking effect or if Lara preferred Jonah because of the shrimp rolls. 

“Will a lady suffice?” Lara asked out of the blue, her voice so soft that it had almost been carried away by the waves. 

Sam laughed, “A lady who only dances the waltz at her uncle’s _fancy balls_ and who absolutely loathes responsibilities? Maybe. But if the lady has a palace, then it’s a definite yes.” 

“Well, that’s too bad.” Lara yawned, “I only have a manor.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehe. I haven’t read the comics in a while, so I’m not quite sure if Sam (and the rest of the Endurance, except Roth and Grim) were aware of Lara’s nobility. I'd like to think she never really paid it any mind anyway, unless she’s alluding to it. It just sounds like a joke (or a nightmare) to everyone else, but she’s actually being serious. 
> 
> Lara: I always got lost when I was a child.  
> Sam: Like, at the supermarket?  
> Alex: Oh, yeah, me too. I would always panic when my mom would leave me at the register and I have no money to pay for the groceries.  
> Lara: I meant my house.  
> Jonah: I’ll go grab the extra map of the ship. 
> 
> They spend the rest of the afternoon just quizzing Lara about the Endurance and were so close to getting her to navigate the ship with a blindfold on until Roth tells them to get back to work. 
> 
> Lara: I’ve learned to hold it in a little bit longer because the bathroom was always so far away.  
> Whitman: Are outhouses a thing in England?  
> Jonah: If anyone sees Lara drinking anything, lead her to the nearest bathroom in thirty minutes. She might get lost and get an infection.


End file.
